Notable Conversations
by Lady Kes
Summary: What do you get when you have two bored CSIs and plenty of paper? GS
1. Session 1

Title: Notable Conversations  
Author: Lady Kes  
Rating: PG, if that  
A/N: I should have been paying attention to the rather pedantic PowerPoint presentation occurring in front of me instead of writing this. Oh well.  
Disclaimer: Not remotely mine.

* * *

The first note landed on his lap in the middle of a thoroughly useless and utterly boring seminar on properly documenting a crime scene.

_Think they'll document my crime scene after I die of boredom?_

He ignored it, sending her a quelling look. Ten minutes later, another note arrived.

_Is it justifiable homicide if it's merciful to the audience?_

He smiled slightly at that, but still shook his head and turned towards the rather pedantic PowerPoint presentation currently in progress. He understood her frustration. Now that Ecklie was assistant lab director, he was obsessed with "continuing education," usually at the expense of actual crime investigation. The continuing education looked good on paper, though, that's what Ecklie and Cavallo cared about.

Grissom sighed and shifted in his chair. If Sara was as bored as she appeared to be, he had a feeling notes would be appearing in his lap at fairly regular intervals. He was not disappointed.

_How__ long have we been CSIs? We know this stuff already._

He personally agreed, but did not want to give Ecklie any reason to think that Grissom had been uncooperative about his continuing education. The man was far too good at inventing ammunition to risk giving him actual reasons for reprisals. Just look at the way he'd split the shifts!

_You look so serious. Don't tell me you're actually paying attention_!

She had a slightly impish smile on her face and he shook his head. Her smile widened and she started scribbling again.

_Didn't think so._

The notes stopped for a few minutes, but he knew it was a temporary respite. Sara had far too much energy to tolerate forced inactivity for very long. He only wondered what the contents of the next note would be.

_I haven't passed notes in class since fifth grade. That's how boring this is._

He tried not to think about the fact that when she was in fifth grade, he'd already gotten his Ph.D. It was too depressing.

_You look sad. Don't worry, only __four__more__hours._

Four hours? He could think of multiple things he'd rather spend four hours doing – and only ninety percent of them involved the fidgeting woman next to him. He considered again her earlier comment about passing notes in class, then quickly wrote on the back of his lecture notes.

_If you feel like you're in fifth grade, I have an idea_.

A "?" was her response, so he wrote below it:

_Do you remember a country song about notes?_

Now he had her totally confused. He took pity on her and, deliberately using childish terms, wrote below her second question mark:

_Do you wanna go out?  
Check yes or no._

He passed the note to her and watched as she smiled, finally realizing what he was talking about. She did not, however, respond immediately, which made him nervous. He turned back to the presenter, his mind whirling. Was he too late? Was he too old? The what-ifs swirled through his head, but his spiral into self-doubt was halted by another note. She had scribbled out "go" and written "make" above it, then checked yes. He looked at her in disbelief, but she had an encouraging smile on her face, confirming the note. He smiled back and then wrote

_Coffee afterwards?  
Check yes or no_

She checked yes, and, having settled that, they turned back to watch the presentation, which was just as boring as before, but at least now he had something to look forward to. Besides, who knew what kind of notes he'd get now?


	2. Session 2

**Title:** Notable Conversations 2  
**Author:** Lady Kes  
**Rating:** PG, if that  
**A/N:** I wasn't really planning on this being anything more than a one-shot, but reviews left me with a plot bunny. Hence, Chapter 2. The actor from _Ferris Bueller _is Ben Stein. Last chapter's song was by George Strait.  
**Disclaimer:** CSI and all CSI-associated things are not mine.

* * *

Sara managed to wait a whole half-hour before sending the next note, although it was a struggle. Dear god but the speaker was boring. If she didn't know better she'd think the presentation was being given by the teacher from _Ferris Bueller's Day Off_.

She was sure Grissom hadn't intended to ask her out via note that day, but hey, boredom did strange things to a person, especially a person as intelligent as Grissom. She might as well up the ante in these last few hours, just to see what happened. It'd keep her occupied at the very least.

_Soo__…what kind of coffee?_

He looked perplexed and a little wary and his note reflected it.

_The kind that comes from the _Coffea arabica_ tree?_

She smiled. Trust Grissom to know the Latin name for the most common species of coffee tree and be able to recall it at a moments' notice. She waited another half-hour before replying.

_I mean, are we going to a coffee shop for fluffy coffee or to a diner for standard coffee?_

Now he just looked at her as if she was nuts.

_Fluffy coffee?_

Clearly the man had never been to a modern coffee shop. She was definitely going to enjoy this. She waited yet another half hour while she pretended to take notes on the presentation in front of her.

_Yeah, you know, the kind with foam and flavors and all that stuff._

_I have no preference. Ladies' choice._

His reply was courteously formal but probably untrue. She couldn't resist baiting him more. He might be her boss, but he was also an attractive man and flirting was hard to resist. Besides, he started it.

_Suuure__ you don't. I bet you wouldn't be caught dead ordering a half-caf skinny soy vanilla latte with extra foam._

Now it was his turn to delay replying, probably while he attempted to turn "java lingo" into standard American English (whatever that was these days). Finally his reply came.

_I have no idea what you're talking about. _

She decided that perhaps she shouldn't make him more uncomfortable. He'd gone out on a limb to ask her out, even if he had referenced a country song while doing so, which would normally be a disqualifying factor considering her utter hatred of country music.

_Okay, so diner coffee it is._

He again struggled to be polite, but his expression clearly indicated relief.

_If you would prefer a "fluffy" coffee drink as you say, I would be happy to give it a_ _chance._

She saw the speaker begin to wrap up and answer questions, but thought she had time for one more note, which should definitely get a reaction.

_Nah, we'll go for standard coffee this time. Next date, though, it's my turn. Mochas are_ _an aphrodisiac, you know._

His widened eyes and half-suppressed smile indicated that he clearly didn't believe her "make out" substitution. She had meant it, though, and she'd enjoy watching him figure that out.

At that moment, a burst of applause and rustling of people reminded them both that the seminar was over.

Grissom still had a slightly shell-shocked look on his face, so Sara took pity on him and said cheerfully, "Meet you at Betty's Diner in half an hour?" then sauntered off, leaving Grissom to snap out of it and gather his belongings.

As she reached the door, she looked back. He was entirely too cute when he was confused, and this seminar had been fun. Maybe she should volunteer to go next time Ecklie brought up continuing education…and she'd bring plenty of paper.


	3. Session 3

**Title:** Notable Conversations 3  
**Author:** Lady Kes  
**Rating:** PG, if that  
**A/N:** Why do plot bunnies always bite when I'm supposed to be studying for finals? The world may never know.  
**Disclaimer:** Brain eaten by finals, no funny disclaimer.

* * *

Two weeks after that first eventful seminar, Grissom was back at another one, courtesy Ecklie…again. Sara sat next to him and the rest of the team had scattered themselves in various places around the auditorium. He suspected Warrick and Nick had strategically placed themselves in the largest concentration of cute females, but he couldn't really blame them for that. 

_Do you think they hire speakers purely on their soporific effects?_

It was true that the speaker appeared to have no real concept of intonation or humor, but before he could respond, another note appeared.

_At least this topic is semi-interesting._

Grissom was definitely grateful for small favors in this case. The speaker was discussing advances and recent cases in mitochondrial DNA analysis, which was infinitely preferable to another "How to Clear a Crime Scene" lecture.

_On the other hand, the after-effects of last seminar were definitely interesting._

Grissom smiled, remembering their three hour "cup of coffee" after the previous continuing education torture session. They had discussed everything from politics (both were liberal-leaning moderates) to current TV (a wasteland, except for the crime shows). It had been a great experience, but one he had no expectations of being repeated, despite Sara's continued threats to subject him to "fluffy coffee."

He just didn't believe that the vibrant woman next to him would want a second date with her older, greyer, squishier supervisor.

Sara was looking at him expectantly, so he hastily scribbled "Indeed" below her statement.

_Indeed? What are you, British? Next thing you'll tell me is that you wear tweed._

Grissom considered revealing that he did actually own a tweed sport coat, but dismissed the idea as being too prone to be used as future blackmail material.

_Indeed is not a purely British statement. It has been used by countless Americans as a succinct statement of agreement._

_Whatever, Sherlock._

That feistiness was one of his favorite things about her, though it did occasionally result in some unexpected events (such as dates with him). Still, better to be unpredictable than boring, right? If only he thought he was anything resembling unpredictable.

Sara had evidently started on a new line of conversation while he had been brooding.

_I believe it's my turn to pick where we go for coffee after the seminar._

Grissom blinked in disbelief. She meant it? Maybe she was just being polite.

_I believe it is, although I don't want you to feel obligated to fulfill our agreement._

Sara quirked an eyebrow at him before writing:

_Obligated? Who said anything about obligated? This is gonna be pure fun._

Okay, maybe not being polite. He was conscious of a distinct sense of relief at her statement of enthusiasm.

_Then I put myself in your capable hands._

He realized the double meaning of that statement as soon as he saw the wicked grin spread across her face. Good thing they were in the back or the speaker might have wondered just what was so salacious about mitochondria.

_Oooh, you promise?_

Slightly flustered now, he attempted to clarify his earlier statement.

_I meant for coffee, _he wrote, then pondered whether to add "we can discuss other situations at a later date." Eh, what the hell, he thought, and added the phrase before he could think better of it.

Sara's eyes widened as she read the note but she simply looked at him before writing back:

_It's a deal. We start with fluffy coffee and go from there._

_Agreed._

_So, the seminar's over in about 15 minutes. Meet me at Daybreak in about half an hour?_

Grissom had no idea what or where this "Daybreak" was. He did know what Starbucks was, but was glad she hadn't suggested there. Their coffee tasted burnt, and if the wanted burnt coffee he'd get some from the break room at the lab for free.

_I have no idea where that is._

_Well, I could give you a ride, if you promise to behave yourself._

_I promise._

She mock-pouted then wrote:

_Darn, and here I was hoping you wouldn't._

At that moment, the seminar ended and Sara stood up, saying, "Half-caf skinny soy vanilla latte with extra foam, here we come" before striding towards the door.

Grissom gathered up his things and followed her, reflecting on the fact that if nothing else, seminars with Sara looked like they'd never be boring. And who knew, maybe he liked soy vanilla lattes?


	4. Session 4

**Title**: Notable Conversations 4  
**Author: **Lady Kes  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own CSI or Star Trek in any way, shape, or form.  
**A/N: **I may have gone overboard with the theme in this one, but I hope you will all forgive me eventually. Also, considering the plethora of angst recently on CSI, this probably counts as an AU scenario. But since I can't write angst or smut for beans and the only case file I've attempted has been languishing on my hard drive for over a year, you all get fluffy bunny fic instead.

* * *

It had been a full month since the last seminar (since they did have to spend at least some time investigating crimes), and Sara was beginning to think she was going to go though continuing education withdrawal. Actually if she was honest with herself, she'd been going through flirty note withdrawal. She had no idea Grissom could be so entertaining.

Their "fluffy coffee" date had gone much as their "normal coffee" date had. It turned out Grissom did NOT like soy vanilla lattes, pronouncing them to be the liquid equivalent of flavored tofu, but he had liked regular lattes. In fact, Sara had noticed a Daybreak cup on his desk more than once since that day, which always made her smile.

And now they were back at another seminar, this time on the recent developments of computer-aided crime scene analysis. The speaker was not only funny, but also drop-dead gorgeous, which might explain Greg, Nick, and Warrick all placing themselves in the middle of the second row and smiling enough to make a Rockette look positively gloomy in comparison. Sara was content to sit towards the middle, though she was intrigued as to how someone who looked like that ended up in forensics rather than on a runway somewhere. For one thing, the hip-length blonde hair had to get in the way of a crime scene.

A folded up note interrupted her musings about their speaker.

_Is it my turn to choose our after-seminar destination?_

Sara half-smiled, thinking of how far Grissom had come in just six weeks. That he initiated this note conversation and had suggested another date was nothing short of a miracle.

_Yes, and since you endured my fluffy coffee, I will allow you to choose anywhere within reason._

Honestly she was somewhat curious about where he would choose.

_I propose a visit to the Adventuredome._

Sara groaned silently. She supposed she should have known he would suggest a theme park, but she really was not fond of roller coasters and especially not roller coasters at a theme park full of clowns. Thanks to Stephen King she'd never liked them, and that case with the clown didn't help any either. But it was his choice, so she supposed she'd have to make the best of it.

_Sounds great._

Next to her, Grissom smiled slightly.

_You are a horrible liar, even on paper. How bout somewhere a bit more geeky and less clowny?_

Sara sighed with relief. No clowns. But maybe his next suggestion would be even weirder. This was Grissom after all.

_How geeky?_

He quirked one eyebrow before handing his answer back to her.

_"To boldly go..."_

Sara stifled a giggle. Star Trek, of course. Klingons and Cardassians were much preferable to clowns. Heck, even the Borg were preferable to clowns.

_Sounds great.__ Do I have to dress as a Ferengi?_

_I like your forehead the way it is, actually, so no._

He liked her forehead? That had to go down in the annals of weirdest compliments ever.

_Thanks. I think. _

Grissom looked at her as if to say, "You know what I mean" before handing his answer back.

_So, the seminar's over in about an hour. Would you like to get dinner before we seek out new life and new civilizations?_

He needed to ask? Of course she did.

_Sure. Doesn't the exhibit have a restaurant attached? Might be fun to see what's on the menu._

Apparently Grissom was slightly wary of what a Star Trek restaurant would have on the menu.

_I believe they do, but I refuse to try blood pie. We see enough blood as it is._

Sara made a face to indicate her agreement with that particular statement and tossed her answer back.

_Good point. Okay, no blood pie. Do they have pasta in the twenty-fourth century?_

_I am sure they do. It might not look like pasta though._

Sara could deal with looking strange. It was tasting strange that might be a problem.

_I guess it'll be an adventure, then. _

_Well, what is life if not an adventure? _

Sara wondered when Grissom had suddenly become philosophical, but thought perhaps he was channeling Picard for a moment. Either way, their date should be fairly interesting.

_So, once we get done being lectured by the supermodel, how are we getting to the twenty-fourth century?_

Grissom looked startled, as if he hadn't considered that possibility. Or, more specifically, perhaps he hadn't considered her obliquely bringing up the possibility that they travel in one car.

_I assume you're referring to us sharing a vehicle._

What else would she be referring to? Well, if he was going to be dense, two could make Star Trek jokes.

_Last time I checked, you didn't have a transporter pad in your kit, so yes._

Grissom looked oddly thoughtful before writing his answer.

_It's not standard equipment for a CSI, though it could be quite useful._

He had a point. Imagine all that transit time that could be used for evidence processing.

_Well, then, shall we take your shuttlecraft or mine?_

_Mine, since this destination is my choice. And because I think I have more matter/anti-matter mixture in my shuttlecraft's energy banks._

That had to be the weirdest way to say "I have more gas than you do," but Sara wasn't really complaining. He did have a point. She tossed one more note back before they settled down to actually listen to the last five minutes of the lecture.

_Beam me up, Scotty._


	5. Session 5

**Title**: Notable Conversations 5  
**Author: **Lady Kes  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own CSI or Star Trek in any way, shape, or form.  
**A/N: **I think this will be the last record of any notes passed between Sara and Grissom. But then again I thought this was going to be a one-shot, so you never know what the plot bunnies will do. Phenomenal thank you's to all my reviewers. I'm a relative newbie at this whole fic thing and you have all been wonderfully constructive and helpful (and complimentary!). And hey, maybe one of these days I'll work on that case-file and get it uploaded!

* * *

Six months later the stream of continuing education requirements had dwindled to a slow trickle. The seminar he was currently attending was actually the first one Grissom remembered attending in quite awhile, and although the topics weren't always memorable, the notes he exchanged with Sara definitely were!

Their speaker today was a man with a thinning ponytail, goatee, and penchant for tangents. Dr. Spiner was lecturing about advances in document analysis, which just didn't seem to fit his appearance. Grissom was glad he had not chose the aging hippie look – it wasn't pretty, especially considering the comb-over their speaker was sporting. Did Sara see him as a slightly less scruffy version of their speaker? That would be depressing.

In the category of "definitely not depressing" was the memory of their date at the Star Trek Experience following the last seminar. They had had a blast, bonding over their mutual geekiness and comparing favorite characters. Both had hated Wesley Crusher with a passion, but loved the quirkiness of Data and had wanted to serve under Picard or perhaps Sisko (never Janeway or Kirk). And even though there had been no more seminars since then, they'd actually been on quite a few dates and things seemed to be going well. They'd even upgraded to PDAs to make the note-passing a bit less obvious, although writing on the darn thing had taken a bit of time to master.

Perhaps Grissom was being a bit too cautious, but considering the effort it had taken to get to this particular point, he wasn't willing to take too many chances, and neither, it seemed, was Sara.

Grissom had to admit, though, that he was becoming more and more convinced that she was "the one." Actually, if he was totally honest with himself, he'd admit she had probably been "the one" for years, but again the thought of wasted years was depressing. He decided given his current mood that Sara should start the note-passing or else they'd get stuck being gloomy, and there was no need to subject her to his mental quagmire. Sure enough, a message appeared on his PDA in relatively short order.

_Think our speaker marched on D.C in the 60s?_

Ah, yes, that was the Sara he knew.

_I somewhat doubt it._

_Me too. He's too dorky. Probably made the signs and watched others march._

Sara would have been the one holding the gigantic banner at the beginning of the march. He tried to imagine her in some of the fashions of the 60s and decided she would have looked gorgeous no matter what decade she was in. He realized it was his turn to send back a note.

_Clearly he is someone who missed the _carpe diem_ lecture in Philosophy 101._

Sara smiled oddly and he knew somehow that a crazy response was on its way back

_I must've missed that one too, since I don't eat fish._

Grissom knew she was perfectly cognizant of the actual meaning of the quote, and was just being silly. Given his mental state, though, he couldn't resist asking her something

_Do you believe in that philosophy?_

Sara looked over at him as if to ask why he was asking deep questions in the middle of a seminar on document analysis, but being Sara, she took the time to think and answer the question truthfully

_Yes and no. Logic is an essential tool, but sometimes you just gotta plant one on someone_.

Grissom chuckled silently. What a perfect combination of reason and zaniness. Before he could respond, though, another note appeared on his screen.

_If you want a demonstration of _carpe diem_, I'd be happy to kiss you in the middle of the seminar._

Although Grissom's id was quite in favor of that option, his ego and superego tamped it down quickly. Now was not the time.

_Perhaps we should refrain from seizing this particular day_.

Sara pouted at him before typing:

_Aww, spoilsport. _

Grissom remembered one of the first notes that they'd sent back and forth and decided to repeat the statement and see if he got the same response, considering the turn the note-passing had taken.

_Would you like to go out after the seminar? Check yes or no_

Sara smiled as she read the message, clearly remembering that first seminar. And then her smile turned slightly sneaky and she sent her response back. She had marked out "go" and written "make" above it, just like she had before. They'd come full circle in terms of note-passing.

Whatever the future held, Grissom reflected that he would always be grateful for boring speakers and spare pieces of paper. Without them, his relationship with Sara might have been permanently stuck in limbo. The future was rather brighter than it had been before the seminars, and it had nothing to do with the backlight on his PDA. Off in the fanciful distance of his mind, he saw himself and Sara passing notes during seminars after they'd been married several years. That phase of his life couldn't come soon enough.

He had one last, lingering thought on the subject: _I wonder if it's considered acceptable to propose by PDA?_


	6. Session 6

**Title**: Notable Conversations 6  
**Author: **Lady Kes  
**Disclaimer:** Still not mine.  
**A/N: **Yeah, it's another one (remember what I said about the other one being the last?). Sorry it's a little esoteric. I was teaching some of the things in this installment and then Grissom and Sara started to discuss it! I did attempt to get them to discuss something lighter, but it didn't work. Also, "air ferns" are not actually ferns, nor are they plants. They're coral skeletons that have been dyed green.

* * *

Grissom and Sara had been sent to some pointless continuing education seminars, but this was quite possibly the most pointless one ever. A woman who reminded Sara of no one so much as Pomona Sprout from the Harry Potter books was pontificating about the uses of plants in criminology.

They all knew plants had unique DNA (like everything else except identical twins) as well as knowing that plant matter could identify a crime scene. That repeated information was alright, but now the woman was rambling about plants as tools in an interrogation.

Sara started the note passing (note beaming, if you wanted to be picky about it).

_Fung shui is _not _scientific._

Grissom's expression was considering as he typed in his reply.

_Many Asian beliefs have roots in nature – it's possible there are scientific principles behind them._

Sara raised a skeptical eyebrow as she replied.

_Right._ _I'll go put a fern in Interrogation Room 1. I'm sure our confession rates will go up._

Now Grissom's expression was faintly chiding.

_Why not? If a suspect was comfortable, he might be more inclined to be truthful._

_Or it might be easier to lie because his brain might feel less panicked._

Grissom nodded slightly in a 'touché' sort of gesture.

_Also possible_.

Sara looked at him with a hint of worry now.

_Do you actually believe this, Griss?_

Grissom put on his most beatific expression, which meant Sara knew she was in for an outrageous reply.

_I am a scientist and therefore cannot support something without scientific basis. However, science is always exploring._

Sara smiled slightly.

_You've just ruled out almost every religion in that one statement._

Grissom shrugged minutely.

_True. Religion and science are non-overlapping magisteria, as Stephen Jay Gould once said._

Sara's expression turned faintly questioning as she idly twisted the ring on her finger.

_So does that mean you don't want to be married in a church?_

Grissom had proposed a few weeks earlier…and he hadn't done it by PDA.

_It is up to you entirely. I have no feelings either way._

_Diplomatic, but not necessarily truthful._

Grissom smiled again. He smiled a lot more these days, and she liked to think she had something to do with it. Of course, his bugs had also been doing better in their races, so that could be a factor.

_I truly have no preference, Sara._

_Okay. I'd rather not do the church thing, personally._

Grissom nodded.

_I'm sure we can find a Justice of the Peace willing to marry us._

_And that way we won't have to worry about dealing with a judge that we may_ _have…annoyed for warrants in the past._

Grissom nodded again.

_Perhaps we ought to bring him or her a plant anyway. We may have a reputation._

Sara smiled, showing just a bit of teeth.

_Yes, and we should put it in the happiness corner of the office._

Grissom smiled back.

_Precisely._

Sara frowned, looking up at the speaker, who was still droning on about plants as interrogation aids.

_I will be in my happiness corner when this seminar is over._

They didn't "speak" for the rest of the seminar, but somehow Sara was not surprised to find a small "air fern" on the happiness corner of her desk the next night.

Grissom knew her well. Not only did he buy a plant for her desk, he bought a plant she couldn't kill.


	7. Session 7

A/N: I have no idea where this came from. I haven't been part of the CSI fandom in years and haven't updated this fic in about that long, but it appeared in my head, so here it is. It's a little bittersweet. Sorry about that.

* * *

They didn't write notes very often anymore.

Grissom was at retirement age, past it actually, but he wouldn't retire. Instead he was an Emeritus, which was pretty much a fancy academic term for someone who refused to stop coming to work even after they were supposed to be enjoying their twilight years. As an Emeritus, he actually had more status at academic conferences than a regular professor, so he went to just as many, but usually they didn't write notes. They didn't have to, these days. They'd developed long-married telepathy, so she'd just glance at him and he'd know exactly what she meant in the subtle shift of an eyebrow, crinkle of a cheek muscle, or widening of an eye.

So they didn't write notes, and she'd almost forgotten how nice it was to do that, to trade words back and forth on paper, to wait with anticipation for the next note to come by. It almost felt as if she was in third grade again, waiting for Chris Moore to notice that she'd sent a note circuitously back to him.

_How are you feeling?_

_As if the proverbial Mack truck has run me over. You should examine it for evidence._

She smiled down at him for that, although she was sad too, and he saw it in her eyes. He pulled the paper back and scribbled another line more messily than the first.

_It will be fine, Sara._

_Isn't that supposed to be my line?_

It was so characteristic of him to try to soothe her, comfort her, even when he was the one in need of comforting, when he was the one in the hospital bed.

_I know. It will be. It just isn't now._

_No, it isn't. Hope is the thing with feathers..._

He stopped there, and she wasn't sure whether it was because he couldn't remember the line or he wanted her to finish it. Before yesterday, she'd have said it was the latter. Now it could be either.

_Trust you to quote Emily Dickinson when you're recovering from a stroke._

He was always an unexpectedly cultured man, and she wasn't talking about microbial cultures either, although they did have a fridge just for that. She'd insisted on it.

_My mind is as sharp as it has ever been. It's only my mouth that is failing to cooperate with me._

Grissom's mouth had never really cooperated with him, at least when it came to his emotions, but she chose not to point that out right now.

_Well, that is why pen and paper still exist. We'll just have to treat it like old times. Remember all those notes we passed in seminars?_

He smiled, chuckled even, although it didn't sound exactly like it should. Still, it was a chuckle, and some small, scared piece of her soul unknotted slightly to hear it. Then he took the paper and pulled it so she couldn't see what he wrote as he wrote it. When he returned the note, it was with a soft smile that unknotted that scared piece even more, and she glanced down at the paper.

_Do you wanna go out?_  
_Check yes or no._

It was her turn to chuckle in a way that didn't sound like it should, but instead of answering via note, she leaned down and kissed him sweetly.

Note writing wasn't so bad after all.


End file.
